Hidden Agemda (Kate Diamond Adventure) (10 page)

Kate poured herself another glass of wine before sitting back on the couch. The computer was still chugging away so she leaned back and sipped her wine. Archimedes wiggled his way into her lap again. Kate thought about her trip to the ice hotel, trying to remember any kind of incident or clue that would lead her to the person who stole the ruby. She couldn’t think of anything … but one thing bothered her—
why
would someone go to all that trouble?

Surely, everyone at the hotel had enough money to buy the ruby—they’d have to be wealthy just to make the trip and it was a sure bet Crowder had checked into everyone that had received an invitation. Maybe the person wanted the ruby so badly they didn’t want to risk getting outbid? Maybe Crowder had made some bad investments and had faked all the items, planning on taking the money and disappearing? Or maybe there was something more significant to the ruby than Kate realized. There had to be something else going on, because it didn’t make much sense for anyone to risk stealing the ruby like that.

Kate didn’t have much time to think about it because just then the computer pinged. It had finished running Nguyen’s name through the databases. Kate leaned forward and sighed as she looked at the information on the screen.
 

“Well, Archimedes,” she said to the sleeping cat, “It looks like I’m going to have my work cut out for me. According to the computer, the Jon Nguyen I met at the ice hotel doesn’t exist.”

The next day, Kate woke up to bright sunshine. She’d slept well. Archimedes had pawed at the window to be let out around ten and she’d obliged and then gone straight to bed, letting her subconscious work on the problem of how she would figure out who Jon Nguyen really was.
 

Of course, there was the chance that Crowder knew Nguyen’s real identity. People often used an assumed name at these underground auctions when they didn’t want their name sullied by buying stolen items. Or they sent someone there to bid for them. Crowder would have checked up on each of his guests so he might have known, but she couldn’t very well ask him, so she had to come up with another plan.

Luckily, Kate
had
another plan and, thanks to her stint with the FBI, she knew just where to go to execute it.

The best identity forger in the country, Gustav Smirnoff, happened to be located conveniently nearby in downtown Boston and Kate planned on paying him a visit. She dressed in her most FBI-like outfit—a navy trench coat, white button-down shirt and black slacks. Sure, she didn’t work for the FBI anymore—even putting on the outfit made her cringe—but Gustav Smirnoff didn’t know she didn’t work for the FBI and she had a feeling he’d be a lot more willing to answer questions if he thought she still did.

Kate consoled herself that she wasn’t exactly
impersonating
an FBI agent. She didn’t plan to show a fake badge or announce herself as FBI, but she hoped Smirnoff’s memory of her previous business would be enough. And looking the part couldn’t hurt.

She shoved her unruly curly hair into a tight bun at the back of her head in order to look more serious, then grabbed her keys and headed out to her Toyota Corolla.
 

Smirnoff’s business was located in the heart of Boston just off Commonwealth Avenue. Parking in the city was problematic, so Kate parked in a public lot and walked.
 

The leaves had started to fall from the few stately trees that lined the street and Kate listened to them crunch underfoot as she walked, inhaling the heavy smell of diesel that permeated the city. She listened to the sounds of the traffic and watched birds flitter around on the sidewalk grabbing tiny crumbs and seeds as she walked past a beauty salon, Asian take-out, and a pizza place before turning the corner into the alley that housed the nondescript dry cleaners where Smirnoff did business from the back room.

The bell over the door sounded as Kate opened it and she stepped inside the dimly lit shop, closing the door on the warm sun. An elderly woman stood behind the desk.

“I want to see Smirnoff,” Kate said in her most official voice.

The woman raised a brow. “You need dry cleaning?”

“No. I have other business.”

The woman looked over her shoulder toward the back of the store uncertainly. “He’s not in.”

Kate pressed her lips together—what if he really wasn’t in? Then she remembered a strange phrase Mason had used when they’d come here before—a code phrase.
 

“I have a fur coat with a ketchup stain.”
 

The woman’s eyes went wide and she nodded, then gestured for Kate to go around the desk and follow her out back. Kate followed, resisting the urge to shout “Yes!” and pump her fists in the air. The woman led her through a hallway, down a set of stairs and through two rooms before stopping in front of a door, which she tapped on three times.
 

“Come in.”

The woman opened the door for Kate then turned and left. Kate went in.

The room was dark and smelled of chemicals. Just like she remembered. Smirnoff sat at a table with photos and plastic cases arranged in front of him, a series of machines—Kate assumed for making fake passports and licenses—sat next to him. His brow creased as he recognized her.

“Again?” His voice was gruff with just a touch of Eastern European accent.

Kate wasn’t sure if she should feel flattered that he’d remembered—nearly two years had passed since her previous visit.
 

“Yep.” Kate stood with her legs shoulder-width apart, staring him straight in the eye. “I have some questions.”

Smirnoff answered by raising his left brow a fraction of an inch and Kate took that to mean she should ask.

“Does the name Jon Nguyen mean anything to you?”

Smirnoff’s breath hitched, his eyes widening. “That’s very bad business, very bad.”

Kate narrowed her eyes. “But you know the name? You made the identity for him?”

Smirnoff slapped his palm on the table and pushed himself up out of the chair, his six-foot-ten frame looming over Kate, his four-foot wide shoulders blocking the light from the lone bulb that hung from the ceiling behind him. “You people said I’d be protected … that you wouldn’t hurt my business. How many times must I answer?”

Kate hoped he couldn’t hear her heart thudding against her chest. She knew he must have been talking about when they’d come before. Mason had assured him they wouldn’t let anyone know he’d given them up and they’d make sure the cops didn’t shut him down.
 

She drew herself up to her full height, stepped forward, her face inches from his face … well, his chest, actually. She hoped her assumed FBI employment and fake confidence was scaring him because he sure as heck was scaring her.
 

“Who did you make the Nguyen identity for? We won’t give you away.” Kate crossed her fingers behind her back. The FBI wouldn’t, would they?

Smirnoff puffed out his cheeks, the smell of stale cigarettes and egg salad wafted past Kate making her nose wrinkle. He ran his hands through the curly ginger colored hair on top of his head.
 

“I tell you, I don’t know the man’s name. I made him an excellent disguise. He was a young man when he started, and I made him old,” Smirnoff said proudly.

“But you don’t know his name?”

Smirnoff snorted. “In this business, you don’t ask for names.”

Kate wasn’t about to give up. “What do you know about him? Where does he live? Can you describe him?”

Smirnoff narrowed his eyes at her. “Well, I do have the picture.”

“Picture? Let me see it.” Kate held her hand out and waited while Smirnoff pulled a squeaky drawer out from an old metal file cabinet. He thumbed through to a folder, opened it and pulled out a photo, which he handed to Kate.

Kate stared at it. She didn’t recognize him, but at least she had something concrete to go on.
 

“Thanks.” She turned and walked to the door.

“It’s the same photo I gave to the other guy yesterday,” Smirnoff called after her.
 

Kate froze in her tracks, her hand on the knob. She turned back around slowly, her eyebrows jamming together in confusion. “Other guy?”

“Your partner.” Smirnoff waved his hand in the air. “Are you people stupid? Typical government … one side doesn’t know what the other is doing.”

“Oh right. My partner. Yep. He was here yesterday?” Kate asked.

Smirnoff nodded, an exasperated look on his face.

Well, it’s good that now we both have a copy.” Kate turned back around, opened the door and ran for her car.

Kate gnawed on her bottom lip as she maneuvered her car through the congested Boston traffic.
 

Partner?
 

Was Smirnoff talking about Mason? He must have been. Ace Mason was the only person Kate had ever gone to see Smirnoff with. But why would the FBI detective be interested in Jon Nguyen?
 

Surely, the FBI couldn’t be on the trail of the stolen ruby this fast—there was no way they could possibly know about what happened at the ice hotel. Kate felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. Was she was losing her touch and the FBI was catching up to her on the trail of the ruby thief,
or
was something else going on that she didn’t know about?

Either way she was determined to beat them and recover the ruby first … she
had
to show Max, the FBI
and
Ace Mason that she was as good … no, better … than they were.

She whipped her car into the underground garage at the
Ritzholdt Museum
, pulled into her assigned parking spot and jumped out making a beeline for Gideon’s lab.

Gideon was sitting in the middle of the lab, hunched over a beaker full of glowing purple liquid. Kate approached with caution.

“Knock, knock.” She tapped on the corner of one of the tables. Daisy raised her head and let out an unenthusiastic woof.

Gideon held his hand up and muttered something that sounded like, “Just a minute.”

Kate took a seat and stared at the photo. Smirnoff had done a good job with the disguise. She never would have guessed the guy in the photo was the old man she’d met at the ice hotel, or that the old man had even been wearing a disguise. Finally, she heard the squeak of Gideon’s chair as he turned around to face her.

“Sorry, I had to make sure I timed the additions of the ingredients precisely in order for the potion to come out right,” He said.

“Potion?” Kate stared at the purple liquid. “What’s it do?”

“Oh, it’s just a test.” Gideon waved dismissively in the direction of the potion. “What brings you here?”

Kate tore her eyes from the glowing beaker, and held the picture out. “I need you to run this through the system and come up with a name.”

Gideon took the photo. “Does he have something to do with the ruby?”

“I think so.” Kate told him how she had visited Smirnoff after her search for Nguyen came up empty. “Apparently, the FBI was there looking for this guy, too.”

Gideon turned from the scanner where he was scanning the photo. “Really? Why would they be there?”

“That’s what I was wondering. You don’t think they know about the ruby heist at the ice hotel, do you?”

Gideon laughed. “No way. I don’t see how they could possibly know it was even stolen from there.” His face twisted into a scowl. “Unless they have someone on the inside here.”

Kate’s heart pinched, she leaned toward him, lowering her voice even though no one else was in the lab. “Do you think someone here could be spying for them? Who?” Kate asked, her thoughts immediately turning to Mercedes LaChance.

“Well, we
are
supposed to be sharing this information with them. We’re working together on this,” Gideon pointed out.
 

Kate sighed. It was true, she’d forgotten the FBI was
supposed
to be tracking down the ruby and Kate was actually the one who was working on it under the radar. “But still, it seems like awfully fast work for them to have visited him
yesterday
,” Kate said.

“True. We barely found out about it ourselves yesterday.” Gideon made a face. “And we both know how slow they are to react to information.”

Kate felt a tingle of premonition dance up her spine. “I can’t help but feel there’s more to this than meets the eye.”

Gideon moved over to his computer and tapped on the keyboard. “I’ll put a call into Max to see if he’s heard anything more about the ice hotel incident.”

Kate’s heartbeat picked up at the mention of Max’s name and she leaped up out of her chair. “We should go up there right now.”

Gideon looked up at her. “He’s in Belgium.”

“Oh.” Kate deflated back into her seat.

“I’m texting him right now. He’ll call when he can,” Gideon said.
 

“Meanwhile, we just sit and wait for your program?” Kate wasn’t very good at sitting and waiting. “How long does it take?”

Gideon shrugged. “Depends on how far it has to look. We might get lucky and it will find a match early or it could take hours.”

Kate tapped her fingernail on the table.
Hours?
She didn’t know if she could wait hours.
 

“Maybe I should go to my office and finish up some paperwork.” She pushed herself up from the chair, and started toward the door just as it whooshed open, revealing Mercedes LaChance on the other side. The two women sized each other up for a few uncomfortable seconds.
 

Kate narrowed her eyes at Mercedes. “Have you been talking to the FBI?”

“Oh, you mean that hunky Ace Mason?” Mercedes plastered a look of wide-eyed innocence on her face.
 

Kate’s stomach twinged with something that felt an awful lot like jealousy. No, it couldn’t be jealousy … probably just the bean burrito she’d grabbed before she went to Smirnoff’s.

“I am the museum liaison, so I talk to him a lot. But not recently.” Mercedes returned her narrow-eyed glare. “They’re on our side, you know.”

“Right, I know that,” Kate said. “But you didn’t talk to them yesterday or tell them about the ruby?”